


Protest Too Much

by cadkitten



Category: Alice Nine, American Actor RPF
Genre: Bisexuality, Explicit Language, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-20
Updated: 2008-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tora thinks Ashton is the hottest man on earth... but he's not gay... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protest Too Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garlic_fresh](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=garlic_fresh).



> For garlic_fresh, who requested this pairing off of jrock_ffrequest.  
> <http://community.livejournal.com/alice9_diaries/234341.html>  
> Song[s]: "Calling Me" by D

I sit there, staring at my own blog, a sinking feeling in my gut. I can't take the post back, so many people are online and they're probably already seen it. If I take it down, I'll look even more suspicious. Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to post about him anyway? It makes little to no sense, even in my own demented little brain.

I just willingly admitted to the entire world that I think Ashton Kutcher is hot... not just hot, but the hottest man on Earth! Well... he is, but that's beside the point. I felt it necessary to make a big deal of saying I'm not gay right after I said that. Suspicious much? How much stupider can I possibly get? But the thing is... I'm not gay!

Straight men are perfectly allowed to see other men as attractive. It doesn't make them a fag to say it or to think it. Or at least that's what I tell myself every day. But that is right... isn't it?

I sigh, turning away from the computer and picking up my guitar, going back to working on my part of the newest song. I can't get my mind off my post though. Well, mainly, I can't get my mind off _him_. I never can. I look around, I do something, anything... and there he is, right at the forefront of my thoughts.

Frustrated, I put my guitar aside and turn back to my computer, opening the bookmark for his blog and reading the two latest posts again. I have to be slow and careful, his posts being in English and all. But I can read it. My email notifies me of a new message and I scroll over to the icon and click it. The new mail opens up and I grin. He's posted again. I refresh the page and, sure enough, there's a new post.

As I read it, my heart thumps hard in my chest. He's coming to Japan to film a new part of his latest movie. I glance to the side of my computer and see all the seasons of "That 70's Show", the special edition of "The Butterfly Effect", and a bunch of burned DVDs containing the random episodes of TV shows he's appeared in over the years. It reminds me I have a package on the way from the US with most of his other movies. I have them all illegally, but I want to make it legal so I feel better about it.

But, yes, anyway... he's coming to Japan! A huge grin spreads across my face and I read on, my eyes widening to an almost comical size. He's coming _here_! Of all places, here! I could meet him... but... how? I bite my lip and then I've got it. I know people and those people know people. I pick up the phone and dial the number of our manager. When he answers, I don't even hesitate. "Hey, it's Tora. I need a favor. Ashton Kutcher is coming here to film the last part of his movie and I would like to meet with him. Even if it's just for a few minutes, I'd like to see him. Can you contact anyone to help me out?"

I hear muffled laughter on the other end of the phone and then he clears his throat. "Sure. I'll call you back tomorrow."

I hang up and glance at the time. It's a little after nine at night. Standing up, I strip off my clothing and dump it in the dirty clothes bin as I walk past it. I turn on the water for the shower, letting it warm up as I brush my teeth and set out my facial care products. Once I'm in the shower, I feel excited, giddy, like I'm on the high of my life. I might get to meet Ashton!

I wash myself, finally getting down to my crotch. Slightly surprised, I stare down at my cock, which is apparently as excited as the rest of me. I chalk it up to adrenaline and toss the washcloth away, grasping my shaft and stroking as I lean back against the wall of the shower. Soft whimpers leave my lips as I feel myself fast approaching orgasm. I never waste my time doing this. That'd be pointless. Sex is when you test your endurance, when you hang on the edge for as long as you can before crashing over seconds before your partner.

My eyelids flutter shut and I moan deeply, my hips thrusting slightly as I tug at myself. My sac is drawn up and tight against me, letting me know I'm close. I twist my hand just the right way and I'm falling into bliss. As my cum leaves my body, spurting out across the porcelain of the tub, images of Ashton flash behind my eyes, his half-naked, dripping wet body glistening in the sun.

My eyes snap open and I'm frozen. Why did I think of him when I came? I'm not gay! It doesn't mean you're gay to only think of a man when you can't control what you're thinking about, right? It's like those dreams I used to have as a teenager; the ones where I was with a guy. But those were dreams. I can't control what my subconscious mind does to me... right? Right?!

I rinse off and get out, quickly drying and hurrying back to the bedroom, pulling on boxers and a t-shirt. I'm straight, straight as an arrow. I flick off the light and turn off the monitor on my computer, crawling under the covers, my body shaking a little. I like women... I've been with a fair amount of them.

I toss and turn restlessly for a good hour, thoughts of how I love women and only women running through my head. I start to drift off and then I get caught on a single thought. Ashton... naked... and I'm sucking his cock while he's moaning above me. I sit straight up in bed and wrap my arms around myself. What the hell?! I close my eyes again and the image is still there, beautiful, naked, writhing Ashton. My dick twitches a little, telling me it likes the image quite well.

I get up and pull a magazine out from under my bed, flopping back down with it and opening to my favorite centerfold. She's a hottie and my cock is quick to respond to her unclothed form. Good. So I'm not gay. Then why the hell am I attracted to Ashton? This makes no damn sense.

I sigh, flinging the magazine back under the bed and pulling the covers up over me again. My phone starts to vibrate and I grab it, answering it. "What?"

It's my manager, he has set up a dinner date the night before Ashton has to leave. It's me and Nao. Apparently Nao likes him, too... probably not as much as me, though. I agree to the date and time and end the call, quickly programming the meeting into my phone's calendar and sending it to myself on email. The phone clatters as I toss it back on the dresser and I lay back down, closing my eyes and forcing myself to get some sleep.

 

 

Three days pass and I grow more and more impatient with each passing moment. I become giddy with excitement. Those stupid thoughts and dreams are still haunting me, but I've put aside worrying about them for now. Maybe it's just a phase and as soon as I've seen him, I'll snap out of it. I just want to see him... not _want_ him. My body is just confused, that's all... right?

I must have zoned out because suddenly it's quiet and everyone's staring at me. I must have stopped playing. A burning heat graces my cheeks and I bow my head in shame. Why is it that I have to draw attention to myself when I least want it.

Nao dismisses the others and then stares right at me. "Tora, please stay."

I take off my guitar and sit down on a folding chair. "I'm sorry. I know I zoned out, but I didn't mean to."

He remains seated behind his drum set, perfectly at home there. "I know. That's not what I want to talk about. I think maybe you should go alone to see him."

My eyes snap up. Him? _Him?!_ No way. "Huh?"

"Ashton. I know you're, um... somewhat..." he looks a little lost, like he can't find the right word.

"A fanboy." I cringe at the word. It's traumatizing to be everything I dislike about our own fans. But at least I know where they're coming from.

He nods. "Yeah... that." He scratches his head and then resumes his prior composed posture. "So, you can go and it will be intimate. I'll just... say I'm sick."

I stare at him. "It's fine if you go... better if you do, probably." I mean it. He'll keep me out of trouble. Make me not jump Ashton's bones. He's a married man, for the love of Kami! I avert my eyes again. "I mean it. I need you there."

He chuckles softly. "Afraid you'll molest him or what?"

I stiffen in surprise and slowly look back up at him. I don't even have to say anything, my face says it all. I'm terrified I'll do just that.

He shakes his head. "You are." He begins to idly twirl a drumstick. "So... how long have you wanted him?"

I can't believe he's asking me, or that he's being so nonchalant about it. I feel like an idiot, I really do. I shift uncomfortably on the chair and finally stand up, coming to lean against the wall beside him and slightly behind him. "I... I have no idea what's wrong with me. I don't intentionally want him, but my body won't pay attention to my protests. But it's just excitement about meeting him, that's all... right? I mean, I'm not gay."

Nao's laugher is startling and more than a little obnoxious. "Dude... you protest too much. I've seen it in you since the first day I met you. You may not be gay, but you certainly have bisexual tendencies." He shrugs. "It's no big deal, though. Most people have them and it just takes something to set them off for a while before they settle down again. Obviously Ashton is your catalyst."

I'd think he's lost his mind, but he's actually making sense. Maybe he's right and it'll pass, that it's just that piece in all of us that's attracted to such beauty and ability. Maybe that's why the guys in the front rows of our concerts love us just as much as the girls. Yeah, that has to be it. I smile at the drummer and push my hair back from my face. "Sounds like a good explanation. But yeah... please come with us anyway."

He grins at me. "Alright. Are you bringing something for him to sign?"

I bite my lip. "Only if you are."

He nods. "I already have it in my bag!"

I laugh as he stands up, stretches, and then leaves the room.

The last few days are some kind of blur. I only live to see Ashton. I know it could have been months, years even, and I'd live only for that moment. Personal time alone... well mostly alone... with Ashton freaking Kutcher. How much more of a score can I get? It's a dream come true; it would be for any fan.

The night of the meeting, I'm at the restaurant an hour before I'm supposed to be. It only makes sense, after all... to be early for him, to reserve the nicest table in the joint, just for us.

Nao shows up next and we're left waiting until five after before he shows up. I don't even know it's him until he sits down with us and pulls the hood of his jacket down, shucking the item and putting it on the back of his chair. My breath catches and the grin on my face is pathetically stuck in place. I feel like crying, but I manage to keep it inside through some miracle.

My heart's going a million miles an hour and I reach under the table and grab Nao's hand, squeezing it until he kicks me to make me let go. He's talking to Ashton, but I can't even open my mouth. All I can do is stare at him, that dumbfuck smile stuck on my face and my eyes filled with tears.

I let go of Nao and manage to spit out my order to the waitress when she arrives. It comes out choked and slightly upset sounding. She gives me a funny look, but doesn't say anything. Nao orders and then Ashton does. He orders what I ordered. My heart damn near bursts out of my chest. I'll know what every bite he takes tastes like. It'll be like indirectly kissing him. A moan damn near leaves my lips and I bite hard on my cheeks, stopping it.

He looks at me and asks in broken Japanese how it is to play guitar. I answer with an equally stupid answer, telling him it's fun. Nao's giving me this look like I'm a lunatic. The thing is... he's right, I am. I realize that I'm one of those fans I hate - the ones that can't open their mouths to say anything intelligent because they're so blown away by being close to me. I always wish they'd treat me like a normal person. But they don't. And I'm not treating Ashton any differently than they treat me. I guess at least now I really get why they act like they have two brain cells to rub together. Apparently being in front of the person you admire the most is like being struck with the dumbshit virus or something.

Dinner progresses like that, with him asking stupid questions due to not really knowing our language that well and me answering equally as stupidly due to my fantardness. Eventually, he says he has to get going and I hesitantly pull out my copy of "The Butterfly Effect", asking him to sign it in broken English. He smiles and nods, taking the Sharpie I offer him and using it to sign where I point.

Nao follows suit, having him sign a picture. It's a good picture, one where Ashton's abs show.

I put the DVD carefully back in my bag after making sure it's dry and then thank Ashton, shaking his hand. Once he's gone and only Nao and I are sitting there at the table again, all I can do is alternately stare at my hand and clutch it to my chest. He touched me... he fucking touched me! I feel giddy.

Nao pats me on the shoulder and all but drags me from the restaurant. Once we're outside and walking toward our apartments, Nao laughs. "You're so going to use that hand for something dirty tonight, aren't you?"

I blush, still clutching my hand to my chest. "No." But it's a lie, I know I will. He licked those fingers at least once during dinner and I've got his germs all over me. For fucks sake! I _am_ just as pathetic as all those fans of ours. The ones who wear little gloves and then take them off and put on a new one for each of us, like they're going to use it to clone our DNA later when we die or something. I mean, seriously... what the hell? And yet... what the hell indeed... because now I get it, now I understand. I'll never treat them with disdain ever again. I can't. I've been on their end now.

"Actually... you're right." With those words, I turn off down my street and wave at Nao with my non-Ashton-germed hand. At least I'm willing to admit it. That puts me a step above the ones who'd lie... right? Right.

**The End**


End file.
